


i'd make wine from your tears

by goIdendonny



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Aristocracy, Enemies to Lovers, FBI Agent Louis Tomlinson, Love/Hate, M/M, PWP without Porn, Rich Harry Styles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:29:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27670702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goIdendonny/pseuds/goIdendonny
Summary: He's the one Forbes writes about, who has bank accounts all over the world, a gold ring on each finger, and a tiger of his own in his huge mansion in the heart of California. Harry Styles, a devilishly rich stockbroker, is accused of a number of financial crimes. And Louis Tomlinson, the FBI agent leading the investigation, finally gets hold of evidence against Styles and shows up at his party to arrest the broker.“Your body is the only form of currency in this world.”
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	i'd make wine from your tears

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [i'd make wine from your tears](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/716900) by ViSty. 



> The Wolf of Wall Street AU where Harry is like Jordan Belfort, and Louis is almost Patrick Denham who has been trying to get to the truth for several years.
> 
> This work is a translation, permission granted.
> 
> Please, turn on the suggested songs!

Mindsight x LIOHN — Adventure

Louis gets out of the car, slamming the door behind him, and buttons up his jacket. He raises his head looking around the giant mansion in front of him. Music comes from inside, and the house itself shimmers with a hundred lights. Stretching his neck, Louis waits for his partner Liam to get near him before they head for the carved oak doors. Getting inside is no problem — Louis just shows the guys at the entrance his badge. Once in the building, Louis looks around but none of the guests pay any attention to the newcomers.

“He's probably waiting for us,” Liam says, leaning in, and Louis nods, thinking.

The waiter is flying towards them with a big smile on his face to offer them champagne, but Louis gives him a stern look and raises his hand to make it clear that they are not going to drink. People around them continue to have fun, not noticing anything. Each of them has a glass of champagne. All these rich men, half of whom should be in prison for their crimes, and their wives in dresses from expensive brands and heavy jewelry who tolerate mistresses for gold bank cards. They all revel in their wealth, giving fake smiles to each other. Louis feels nauseous. Turning away, he is slowly making his way through the crowd, trying not to lose sight of Liam. There's no doubt that Mr. Styles already knows they're here. The security guards at the entrance, to whom Louis showed his ID, have obviously already reported everything to him. However, the host is in no hurry to appear. Louis is maneuvering from room to room, looking around the guests, and rejects the waiters offering him drinks several times. He examines one face after another, recognizing more and more criminals in them — those ‘thieves in law’ who continue to get away with everything. Failed to find the owner of the mansion, the agent still returns to the main hall where the celebration takes place. Looking around the room, Louis finds Liam. His partner is standing by the column and talking to the pretty girl in a fancy beige dress. When Tomlinson pushes through the people to approach the two, the girl is already gone.

“Got anything?” he asks, but the agent shakes his head.

“It was a shitty idea, there is no point in doing it today,” Liam sighs, and Louis starts to get annoyed. “He's probably already gone.”

Tomlinson doesn't answer, but turns with his arms folded. He moves aside, when an unknown child scurries past him, and the man raises his eyebrow, surprised that there are kids in this place. He grimaces in disgust and sighs, about to come up with a new plan, when looking up, Louis finally notices him. Mister Styles is standing on the stairs, holding a glass of something that is clearly stronger than champagne, when he notices him in response. He breaks into his famous seductive smile, unlike his colleague standing next to him. Niall Horan is his financial partner and he looks rather confused and probably a little scared when he says something in his boss's ear. However, he calmly takes a sip of alcohol before passing the glass to Niall and adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. Harry smiles at a couple of guests and walks down the stairs imposingly. Louis feels like a volcano erupting with anticipation. He's been waiting for this very day for almost two years, and now he's standing here, ready to arrest him.

Englishman Harry Styles was still a young broker in a successful investment bank when it suddenly went bankrupt and closed. Louis had heard that, thanks to his insistent style of communication with clients and innate charisma, Harry was able to stand firmly on his feet and start his own company, and then he just got richer and richer until Forbes referred to him as “The Wolf of Wall Street” and he drew FBI's attention to himself. Louis had met him several times, and at one point, when Harry offered him a one-million-dollar bribe, Louis realized that he almost got to the truth. Mr. Styles was shocked and even angry at his refusal, and Louis promised him that Harry would go to jail. He continued his investigation when The U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission intervened in the proceedings. Styles got himself into big trouble, and Louis was there when it happened.

“Mr. Tomlinson, what an honor,” Harry stands in front of him, pulling Louis out of his vortex of memories, and the agent looks up at him with a haughty expression. The broker pauses to nod at Liam who is standing beside them. “To what do I owe your visit?” he smiles charmingly, but Louis sees through him. He had studied every movement of his eyes, the way his lips move when he speaks and the way he twists his gold rings when he's about to lie. Louis knows everything about him.

“It's over, Harry,” he says in ecstasy, and it's probably the best moment of his life because broker narrows his eyes and folds his hands in front of him as Louis reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket to pull out the document. “Do you know what it is? It's a warrant, Harry, a warrant for your arrest,” Louis waves the document in front of his face, and the man tries to keep a straight face. “I was in Florida two days ago. I saw Mr. Dujardin, remember him? Your banker with whom you arranged to transport the cash to Switzerland,” he shakes his head, smiling and handing Harry the warrant, but Harry doesn't take it in his hands. “I'm arresting you, Mr. Styles, for a number of financial crimes you've committed until further proceedings in the court,” he says with a satisfied smile, but Harry remains silent. “Should I show you my badge and mirandize you?” Louis looks up, grinning at the man, but the broker just smiles slyly. Seems like it doesn't bother him at all.

“Let me say that I am very pleased to see you!” he says suddenly, his smile widening and his hands opening invitingly. “Unfortunately for _you_ , our last meeting was not a success for your investigation, was it? I'm glad that you're making progress now, agent Tomlinson.”

Louis looks him straight in the eye, and this arrogant bastard looks so smug, as if he didn't hear what Louis just said. He notices, ignoring his words, that Liam is pulling out the handcuffs, and some of the guests are paying attention to them. Louis looks around, trying to figure out what's wrong. He can hear the feigned confidence in Harry's voice, and it confuses him. Turning, Louis looks into his eyes again, opening his mouth to answer when a clear voice precedes him.

“Uncle Harry!” a little curly haired girl in a poufy dress approaches him, and Styles bends down to catch her when she jumps into his arms, nearly dropping a small tiara from her head. “Isn't it the time to cut the cake?”

“Oh, we'll start cutting the cake at ten, honey, we've already agreed,” he holds out the finger to touch the tip of her nose, and the girl giggles. Louis stands there, completely lost, not knowing what to say. He suddenly thinks of Liam and turns to snatch the handcuffs from his hands and hide them under his jacket, quickly buckling them on his belt holster. “I apologize, gentlemen,” Harry turns and looks at Louis, giving him his charming smile. “You wouldn't be so insensitive as to spoil the little princess's party, would you?” he turns to the girl and gives her a peck on the cheek, glaring impudently into Louis's eyes. Louis is ready to explode with anger right now, but he maintains his composure and professionalism. The agent just stands there, not saying a word. “We'll get back to our conversation when the cake is cut, okay? For now, you can enjoy the appetizers and all that,” the broker turns away to leave, but then adds, “Oh, I almost forgot! Since you're my guests, I won't tolerate any weapons in my house,” he says, and Louis sees the guard approach them.

Liam gives Louis a questioning look, but Tomlinson shows him a sign that everything is fine. Taking the gun from its holster, Louis surreptitiously hands it to the guard, and his partner does the same.

“Happy now?” Liam snaps, but Harry doesn't pay any attention to the agent. He stares straight at Louis.

“More than happy. Make yourself at home,” he turns his head to look at the girl. “Let's go find your mother now, shall we?”

She nods at him, running her fingers through his hair as Louis stands there, gritting his teeth and watching Harry walk away with the kid in his arms. He leaves right under his nose again, but Louis won't leave without him this time. He won't leave this house without Harry Styles in handcuffs.

“What are we going to do?” Liam asks, sighing, and Louis pulls down the edge of his jacket, looking extremely furious. He tries to calm down when he answers.

“We'll wait for the fucking cake to be cut,” he says to Liam, then strides toward the living room. “Let's go take a look around here.”

$$$

The mansion looks really great from the inside. All this luxury furniture, expensive chandeliers and fountains right in the middle of the rooms. Several grand pianos in different halls, a couple of carpets in the form of lion and bear skins on the floor, and even a chair covered with crocodile leather. Trying to find Liam among all the guests, Louis begins to lose his temper. The decision to split up and explore the house was Louis' most reckless idea. Pausing in one of the many rooms on the first floor, Louis looks at the porcelain figurine on the table. The room is quiet enough: it seems that all the guests are moving to the main hall, where the birthday party of Styles' little niece will be held. Carefully picking up the figurine of the ballerina, Louis looks at her, eyes narrowing.

“I paid nineteen hundred dollars for it,” Harry says from right behind him, and Louis almost drops the figurine. He turns and puts it on the table. “Found it in an antique shop in Jamaica. Real art, isn't it?”

Walking around the agent, the man leans on the edge of the table, hiding his hands in the pockets of white trousers that fit loosely at his waist and are slightly narrowed down. His red shirt with the sleeves rolled up is unbuttoned to the top two buttons. Louis straightens his tie, loosening it a little, and tries to distract himself from Harry's appearance.

“It would be a great pleasure if the Duke of Bay Ridge would join us to cut the birthday cake,” Harry says, smiling, and Louis grits his teeth, getting really pissed. He's embarrassed and angry, hating him right now.

“I asked you not to call me that!” he snaps, wishing for the thousandth time that he hadn't blurted out in front of Harry what part of New York he was born in. “I can't wait to cut the damn cake, put you in handcuffs, and finally sigh with relief,” he lifts the sleeve of his jacket to look at his watch.

“Sometimes it seems to me that your wishes are rather odd, Duke,” Harry smiles, and Louis wants to raise his voice again when the man adds. “You've been living with the idea of putting handcuffs on me for years, isn't that rather odd?”

Louis looks him straight in the eye, and Harry licks his lips. The agent feels his body heat up, and the tips of his ears turn red. He thinks about this dirty idea that Styles has hinted at, and Louis wants to object, but instantly forgets his entire vocabulary.

“I need to find my partner,” he mumbles, turning around, and he's about to leave, when Styles gets near him, gesturing politely to the other door.

“I think I can help with that,” Mr. Payne is meeting my friends in the main hall.

Louis doesn't ask questions — he just follows the broker, though he doesn't really trust him.

$$$  
  


“Bloody shit,” Louis clenches his fists as Harry points at Liam. He is standing in the company of some men and a woman, holding what appears to be a glass of something alcoholic, and Louis is ready to strangle him with his bare hands.

“We can't all be as boring as you, Duke,” Harry says with a playful smile, raising his glass to his lips and taking a sip of whiskey. “The detention doesn't seem to be going as well as you planned, does it, Louis?”

“Cut your cake,” Tomlinson growls at him before leaving and heading towards Liam. “What the hell?” he hisses in his ear, pulling him away from strangers, and for a second Payne looks dumbfounded, but then breaks into a satisfied smile, throwing his hand up, causing a few drops of whiskey to spill on the floor.

“Louis! Couldn't find you, where have you been?” he asks drunkenly, and Louis gets mad. This evening is getting worse by the second.

“What are you doing?” he angrily snatches the glass from Payne's hand and leaves it on the nearest table, which probably costs as half of his apartment in Washington.

“I decided that we won't be able to hold a detention today, you know.”

“You decided... _You decided_?! Why do you decide anything at all, this is my investigation!”

“You know you didn't even let anyone know you were here, right?” Liam asks in a conspiratorial whisper.

“Shut up!” grabbing his partner by the shoulder, Louis drags him further away from the people and places him in a chair in the farthest corner of the room. “Sit here, I'll find him.”

“But they're bringing out the cake,” Liam warns, and Louis is about to tell him to shut up again when the audience suddenly erupts in applause. Straightening up, Louis reaches behind his back out of habit to touch the gun, but quickly remembers that it's not there. The room hums joyfully, and Louis leaves Liam to move toward the crowd and see what's going on.

Divorced Gemma Styles, who has decided to keep her brother's famous surname, leads the way, carrying a huge three-story cake decorated in the style of the cartoon _101 Dalmatians_ , smiling brightly at guests and flashing her diamond earrings. Harry walks right behind her, holding his little niece in his arms, a tiara glinting on her head, and only now does Louis realize that it is encrusted with diamonds. The guests make way for them to enter the center of the room, and then Louis notices something else.

“What the fucking hell?” he exhales, not believing his eyes.

While Harry is holding the girl in his arms, a _tiger_ is walking right next to him, right at his feet. A real tiger, with a diamond collar and a slightly discontented face. Louis shies back, and some of the guests start to gasp in awe and fear. Tomlinson stares at Harry standing next to Gemma and the waiters helping them light the candles on the cake. The tiger sits down next to its owner, waving the tip of its tail near its massive paws. It looks around lazily, barely reacting to the crowd singing congratulations to the little lady.

The lights are dimmed, and Louis watches Harry smile broadly as his niece makes a wish. He tilts the girl toward the cake, and she and her mother blow out the candles. The guests cheerfully applaud, showering the family with congratulations as Louis follows Harry's movements. The agent walks forward, reaching out to check the handcuffs behind his back. Maneuvering between people, he approaches the family members when Niall suddenly stands next to them, and Harry turns around.

Louis grows into the floor, looking into the animal's eyes. The tiger lies down directly in front of him, calmly looking at the agent and lazily wagging its tail. Raising his head, Louis looks at Harry, who pauses for a moment to turn and look at Louis. Without saying anything, Harry smiles broadly and leaves, disappearing into another room. Tomlinson clenches his fists in anger, looking at the tiger in front of him, and turns around.

“Find him now, or I swear to God, I'll put you behind bars for the rest of your miserable life!” he hisses in Niall's ear, grabbing his arm as the man is about to leave. However, the fearful broker just shrugs, grinning haughtily.

“Unfortunately, I can't follow Mr. Styles' every move. He can go wherever he wants, and I don't know where he is”, he pulls his hand out of Louis's grasp, looking him straight in the eye. “My sympathy, Mr. Tomlinson. Enjoy the celebration.”  
  


**Tommee Profitt — Enemy (feat. Beacon Light and Sam Tinnesz)**

Louis is standing there, watching helplessly as the grinning Mr. Horan just walks away.

Lady Styles gives the agent a sympathetic smile, and Louis even thinks he sees the regret in her eyes. He doesn't respond to her in any way, just watching her disappear into the crowd, showering her and the young birthday girl with congratulations. When Louis turns around, the tiger gets up and shows him its fangs, snarling menacingly. Tomlinson swallows, frozen in place, but the tiger just shakes itself before turning and walking away. Sighing, Louis hides his face in his hands, feeling sorry for himself. He really doesn't understand why he's so unlucky. The FBI would have kicked him out if they found out what happened here. To be honest, Liam is right: Louis didn't let anyone know that he was here. This arrest was unauthorized, but no one should have known that. Louis sighs heavily, because his obsession with Harry Styles is driving him crazy.

“Champagne, sir?” another busybody waiter appears in front of him, smiling helpfully to the point of nausea, and Louis sighs again.

Without a word, he takes the glass and knocks it down, gulping down the contents. Then, with a clink, he puts it back on the tray of the startled waiter.

He should've just turned around and left this place five minutes ago, taking Liam with him. But his partner is having fun with some horribly drunk guys in the far corner of the room, and Louis sighs. He can't even complain about it, because in fact Liam isn't even on duty. Tomlinson whirls from room to room until he finds himself in the least crowded room, where another waiter finds him. Louis looks at the tray that he hands him in surprise.  
  


_Hey, Duke, why are you still here?  
  
_

Louis crumples the note in his fist and starts scanning the room with his eyes. He turns his head, hearing a strange ringing in his ears. People around him are having fun, as if nothing has happened. Louis looks around again and again before he freezes and slowly lifts his head up. Harry breaks into a satisfied smile when their eyes finally meet. Styles is standing on the second floor, leaning on the carved railing. He has a glass of whiskey in one hand while the other one hangs down. He grins as the light and shadows play across his face. The music interrupts the strange ringing, bursting again into the agent's mind. He inhales, regaining his breath. Harry takes a sip of his whiskey, then pushes off the railing and slowly heads down the hall. Louis turns around abruptly, remembering that he had seen a door here earlier, with a tape barring entry for guests. He steps toward it, loosening the knot of his tie. Picking up the tape, Louis pushes the door open and goes inside. As he thought, it hides a small hall with stairs to the second floor. It probably leads to another part of the house, the sleeping wing, and Louis boldly climbs the steps, quickening the pace.

Running up, he quickly reaches the place where Styles was a minute earlier. Clinging to the railing, Louis looks down to where he was, and can smell Harry's cologne still in the air. Louis turns and heads for the hallway where the broker has gone. Louis seems to be following the scent of his perfume, running his hand along the wall where several expensive paintings hang. After a while, he notices him: Harry is standing in the middle of another long corridor. This mansion is like a bloody labyrinth. There is almost no light here — just the light that comes through the windows. However, the street lights allow Louis to see Harry's silhouette. The man is facing him, taking another sip of whiskey. Meeting the agent's eyes again, Harry turns away and continues on his way. Louis slows down and follows him, pulling off his tie completely and throwing it on one of the chairs. He walks forward, heart pounding, and thinks it's like some damn game. They are like the predator and the prey, but Louis isn't quite sure that he is the hunter here.

He walks slowly through the corridors, turning one corner and then another. Harry sometimes turns around to make sure that Louis is following him. He spills his whiskey, dances, runs his hand along the wall, and shakes his hair. It's like Louis is being hypnotized. It's as if he's blindly following his archenemy in slow motion, having no idea where he's going.

Eventually, Harry stops at the double doors. They are tall and massive, and even Harry, with his broad shoulders, seems small now. He waits for Louis to come closer, and as soon as he is close enough, he turns around, leaning both hands on the door. He pushes them forward, opening them. Harry goes inside, and Louis follows. His heart is pounding somewhere in his head, his body is shaking a little, and his back is sweating. Louis thinks it's awfully hot in here. When he goes into the room, it's dark and quiet, and Louis holds his breath. He's about to turn around when something knocks him down.

In fear, Louis instinctively reaches for his holster to grab the gun, but remembers too late that it's not there. He finds himself backed up against the wall so quickly that he doesn't even have time to realize what's happening. His glass falls out of his hand, shattering with a clatter as it hits the floor. Glass shatters everywhere, and Louis puts out his hands to protect himself, but then sees Harry's face in front of him. The man's fingers hold Louis's hair tightly, lifting his head and pinning it to the wall. Louis's breath is coming in short gasps.

“Hi, agent,” Harry says in a half-whisper, and Louis clenches his fist, ready to strike if necessary. But the broker doesn't move. Instead, he leans closer, and Louis closes his eyes as the man nuzzles his neck. Then Louis feels an erection against his thigh and freezes. He even seems to stop breathing. “I bet you would follow me,” he noses higher, and his mouth is close to Louis's ear, whispering the words, and Louis feels the moment when a telltale wave of arousal washes over him.

Louis presses his back against the wall, trying to control himself. But this is already in vain.

“Still want to arrest me?” Harry pulls back to look at him, and Louis reluctantly opens his eyes.

He stares into Harry's eyes for a few seconds before breaking down and grabbing Harry's face in his hands, pulling him down to kiss him. He unceremoniously puts his tongue in his mouth so deep that it seems that he is about to suffocate himself. It doesn't matter anymore, so Louis just follows Harry as he drags him further across the room without opening his eyes or taking his mouth off. This place is like a small private living room, like in suites, from which they enter the bedroom by opening another door. But it doesn't matter anymore.  
  


**Sam Tinnesz — Play with Fire (feat Yacht Money)  
  
**

His breath is hot, and he smells like twelve-year-old creamy Dalmore and Tom Ford's Tobacco Vanille. His skin is hot and smooth under Louis's fingers, like mulberry silk, and his lips are soft, tasting like nuts and orange zest. Louis pulls at his hair, running it through his own fingers. Harry is assertive, pushing him with all his body, pulling off his clothes, and all Louis can do is raise his hands to let Styles unbutton his holster and pull off his shirt. He feels humiliated, feels like a loser, again. But he doesn't really care, because Harry's lips feel so good. He kisses him so hungrily, with a predatory intensity, like Louis is a small, even tiny victim that the broker has cornered. Unbuckling the belt of his own trousers, Louis pulls them down from his thighs, stepping over them to get out of the fabric, and awkwardly pulling his socks off with his heels. Harry laughs into his mouth, biting his lower lip, and Louis's stomach lurches. His insides twist into a tight knot, his stomach tightens because Harry is so hot, and Louis actually hates what he makes him feel. This evening should've ended very differently, but not that Louis was upset about anything. Harry is unfairly arousing, his body is so incredible, and he definitely tastes better than anything Louis has ever tasted. He rolls his eyes, clinging to Harry's broad shoulders as he moves to Louis's neck, biting lightly. He sinks lower and lower, and Louis groans low, taking clumsy steps back. His feet get tangled and he thinks they will never reach the bed.

Something catches his attention, distracting him from the way Harry sucks in his skin with his lips, leaving hickeys on his collarbones. A strange sound that makes Louis lazily open his heavy lids, focusing his bleary eyes. He sees that the doors leading to Styles' private living room, which They came from, are open, and a tiger is standing in the aisle.

“Shit,” Louis flinches, recoiling from Harry, but still keeping a firm hand on his shoulder.

He's breathing fast, staring dumbfounded at the broker's back, and his hair is a mess, as if he's already been fucked hard. Harry blinks before turning to look at what Louis is staring at so startled. The man laughs as he turns to put his arm around Louis's waist and pull him back, but Louis continues to stare at the tiger. Who, in turn, looks back at him. Its eyes gleam in the half-light.

“Are you afraid of the kitten, agent?” Harry whispers in his ear, then bites his earlobe and pulls. Louis snarls, slapping Harry on the shoulder.

“Get that beast out of here,” he mutters when Styles tries to kiss him. Louis barely returns the kiss, still searching for the predator's eyes in the dark.

But the next second they're gone, and Louis grabs the man as he loses his balance. He suddenly lands on the soft bed while Harry holds him up. He mentally thanks the Almighty, because he thought that they would never get to bed.

“Don't worry, he won't eat you, Duke of Bay Ridge,” Harry says playfully, climbing into bed next to him. He leans in close to Louis's face, running his hand over his bare chest. “Not until I let him.”

His palms are large, and Louis is finally distracted from the animal when Harry wraps his hand around his cock, making him throw his head back and whine piteously. It's not that Louis is particularly impatient, it's just that he wants Harry too much, and it annoys him, to be honest.

“Shut up already,” he grumbles, grabbing the man by the hair to pull him closer. He kisses him again, even more greedily than before. He wants him all. Wants his Tom Ford to soak into his DNA.

Thank God Harry doesn't need a special invitation, so when he throws a condom and lube on the bed, Louis sighs. His chest rises and falls too often, and he just stares at Harry in the dim light of the streetlights. He knows the party downstairs is still going on, but no one will look for them. The fact that Harry didn't escape and Louis still managed to trap him warms Tomlinson's heart the most. Even if this trap was a luxurious bed.

“Is that strawberry?” Louis frowns, arching his eyebrows as Harry smears lube on his fingers.

“I'm sorry, if you'd given me a list of your preferences instead of an arrest warrant, I'd have had time to prepare,” he slaps Louis on the thigh with a clean hand, forcing him to turn around on the bed and lie down more comfortably, so that Harry can sit between his spread legs.

Louis holds his breath for a moment, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He finds himself smiling in spite of himself, thinking that he doesn't actually talk to anyone that much in bed. He doesn't really moan very often. But Harry unceremoniously puts his finger in him, and Louis jerks on the bed, grabbing the sheet and clenching it in his fists.

“Holy shit,” he whispers several times, opening his eyes and looking at nothing. “Careful,” he hisses, not even sure if Harry can hear him at all.

But Harry hears. He bends down, slightly changing the angle, and his movements become more affectionate. Moving forward, he bends down, probably in a very awkward position, just to get to Louis's lips and give him a quick kiss. Louis isn't quite sure how he feels about it, but there's a strange, pleasant feeling inside him, and he thinks it's even kind of like gratitude and warmth. But Harry's lips are already disappearing as he moves lower, covering Louis's entire chest with kisses. Louis runs his fingers through his hair, because he obviously never gets tired of touching and pulling it. Harry takes a ragged breath and pulls out his finger, adding two more at once. Louis winces, sighing. He groans, and his voice gets a little higher. He is very turned on and impatiently shifts on the bed, moving towards the man's movements. Styles chuckles contentedly, and Louis vaguely sees him throw his head back and open his mouth in pleasure. Louis doesn't see it, but he can swear that Harry is touching himself right now.

“Add the third one,” Louis grumbles almost angrily, barely able to force the words out. He's getting wet, and it's not just that he's sweating a lot. “Please, Harry, _more_. Do I have to beg you?”

Slowing down, Harry raises his head, smiling grimly. He looks pleased with himself, and Louis is really angry.

“Sounds fun, I'd like to hear that,” he says, and his voice is hoarse and breathless, and it seems to be the hottest thing Louis has ever heard.

However, Harry takes pity on him, adding a third finger, and Louis thinks he won't last long. Styles is literally mocking him, speeding up and slowing down the pace of his movements. He moves his fingers, flexing them inside, then parting them like scissors, and Louis wants to tear his hair out.

“Please, Harry,” Louis moans, and it comes out louder than he intended, but his strength is really running out.

“Yes, Mr. Tomlinson, if you please,” Harry says sweetly, and Louis wants to slap his idiotic face with his smug smile.

Louis pulls himself up higher so that his elbows rest on the pillows. His breathing is quickening again, and he can't remember the last time he was so excited about having sex with someone. And it's actually a thrill, because until this second, he didn't realize how much he wanted Harry. Harry gets up and kneels between Louis's open thighs, but suddenly leans down to kiss one of them on the inside, which sends a swarm of goosebumps down Tomlinson's spine. Then Harry hovers over him and wraps his lips around the head of his cock, so that Louis opens his eyes in surprise and arches up, almost hitting the gilded headboard.

“Oh, my fucking God,” Louis says and grabs the sheet again, as if it might save his life.

Opening his eyes, Louis watches Harry slowly pull his cock into his mouth, as if in torture, and his lips curve into a crooked smile as Harry looks back into his eyes. If Louis had a gun, he would have shot this bastard. Harry closes his eyes only for a moment, when he quickly lowers his head, taking it all the way to the base, but then he releases Louis's cock from his mouth and abruptly rises from the bed. Louis doesn't even have time to figure out what's going on.

“I want to steal one of your toys,” Harry says, striding toward the door, his bare ass wagging. He finds Louis's pants where he left them and picks them up to unfasten the handcuffs from his belt. Louis's mouth goes dry and he swallows the lump in his throat. “If you don't mind,” he doesn't even wait for an answer. He picks up the handcuffs and turns them over in his hand as he heads back to the bed.

From about this point on, Louis loses his mind. He grabs Harry by the neck as he climbs onto the bed, and doesn't seem to let go until he passes out. He bites his lips and studies every inch of his body with his fingertips as they just kiss hungrily and rub up against each other for what feels like an eternity, driving each other to the edge. At one point, Louis just falls back on the bed and their limbs intertwine. He is still holding Harry's neck with one hand while his legs are thrown over the small of his back as the man pulls his other arm up. Louis gasps, trying to focus on Harry's beautiful face right in front of him. He doesn't immediately realize what's going on when something clicks right over his ear and he looks up. Louis's heart seems to skip a beat and then starts pounding too loudly when he realizes that Harry has just handcuffed him to the bed with his own handcuffs.

“Look who's here,” Harry says. Sticking out his tongue, he runs it up Louis's cheek to his temple, and then whispers wetly in his ear, and the words send goosebumps all over his body. “A special agent in his own trap.”

Louis moans softly, trying desperately to hold back. He doesn't want to think about how it turns him on. Turns him on like hell.

“Do you order me to fuck you, agent Tomlinson?” Harry breathes hotly, and Louis bends over, squeezing Harry's waist with his hips.

“Yes,” he says vaguely, and Styles smiles. They are both terribly sweaty, and Harry's wet hair gets in Louis's face as the broker kisses his neck.

Louis gets mad, and he grabs Harry's hair with his free hand so hard, pulling him away from him that the man screams. An angry growl is heard very close, and the bed is pushed under someone else's weight. Louis turns in horror at the tiger sitting right next to him, but Styles grumbles, just pushing the animal. The tiger continues to growl at Louis when his master pushes him off the bed.

“Good boy, now get out,” he says, looking over his shoulder. “C'mon, go away.”

Reluctantly, the tiger leaves, his diamond collar flashing in the dark. Harry turns to Louis, and he is going to swear at him when the broker says.

“You have to work hard to arrest me, Duke,” he bends over to draw him into a kiss, and disappointed, Louis is about to argue, when he feels Harry's dick on his ass cheek, and in the next second he feels it right in itself.

Louis opens his mouth and moans soundlessly, eyes narrowing. He tightens his fingers on Harry's shoulder as he pushes all the way into him in one motion, and Louis squeezes hard around him. Harry is so damn big, and it feels so good. Louis gives himself a few seconds to get used to it, but Harry doesn't wait for him anymore. It becomes something chaotic and crazy, and Louis is drowning in this feeling. Harry moves fast and pretty hard, and Louis likes it.

“You know, we could get along if you weren't so obsessed with your bank account,” he breathes hoarsely, and Harry chuckles.

“Your body is the only form of currency in this world,” he lowers his head to bite Louis's nipple.

Louis twitches on the bed, his wrist is rubbed by the handcuff, and he thinks that there will probably be a bruise there tomorrow. He's not sure how he's going to explain this to Liam or anyone else. But right now, all he cares about is Harry. Harry fucking Styles, with his huge mansion, his huge fortune, his huge tiger, his huge ego, and his equally huge cock. Louis is obsessed with him. Totally and completely. All his thoughts are occupied only with this man. Maybe he even bought his words.

Harry moves so fast, and their bodies slide across the sheets. Their lips brush against each other, and Louis loses touch with reality. Their kisses can hardly even be called such. Louis's lips are wet with either his saliva or Harry's. Their fingers are intertwined, so they squeeze each other's palms. And it all feels so good that Louis can feel tears of pleasure pooling in the corners of his eyes.

He throws back his head, feeling that he is on the very edge of his recklessness. Louis knows that Harry is close, too, judging by how chaotic his movements are. He pushes into Louis, barely keeping pace, and Louis can't even put his hand down to touch himself. He comes like this: with Harry's cock in his ass and thoughts of him in his head. Harry himself needs a few more incoherent thrusts before he pushes into Louis's limp body one last time, and Louis shrinks, stiffening. Harry moans loud and long, and it sounds so incredibly hot that Louis almost faints. He remembers Harry pulling himself out of Louis, throwing the condom on the floor, and then repeatedly kissing him all over his body. He says something, and Louis mumbles an incoherent ‘yeah’ in response to whatever it is and passes out due to an overabundance of feelings and emotions.  
  


$$$

Louis wakes up when the sun blatantly blinds his eyes. He frowns and wants to shout for someone to close the windows, but he's not even sure he remembers where he is. Opening his heavy lids, Louis looks around, trying to figure it out. He bats his eyes as he looks around the luxurious room — a bedroom that obviously belongs to someone very rich. And then the memories hit him like an avalanche. Their hot bodies entwined and Harry's tongue in his own mouth. Louis jerks violently, but immediately begins to hiss in pain. He realizes that his entire body is numb due to how long he has been in the same position. He looks first at one hand and then at the other, realizing with horror that he is handcuffed to the bed. With his own handcuffs. What a humiliation. He realizes that he is completely naked on Harry's bed, with only his groin neatly covered by a sheet. Louis closes his eyes and shakes his head. Looking away, he notices a small note on the bedside table.

_Good morning, Duke Tomlinson! I hope you slept well. I'm sorry, I obviously have to run. But I will definitely be waiting for you with your warrant again xx_

Louis rolls his eyes and stares at the ceiling for a few seconds. But then a smile appears on his face and he sighs. Looking around again, he comes to the conclusion that there is no way he can get out of this situation on his own. Taking a deep breath, he sighs again, preparing for the greatest shame of his life.

“Hey? Is anyone here!?”


End file.
